


'Ghostly' Night

by You_are_perfect



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, First Meeting, John know more about supernatural, M/M, One-Shot, Sixpenceee short story, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:12:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_are_perfect/pseuds/You_are_perfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock meet with someone in a tube in the middle of night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Ghostly' Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on one of the sixpenceee short story 'Night Subway Train' if I'm correct. Here's the link: (http://sixpenceee.com/post/60145183132/creepy-story)  
> And somehow, I made this long.

It was just past midnight, Sherlock just solved Lestrade's case after he handed the suspect to the NSY. It still amused him that they still cannot believe and hate him no matter how many Sherlock gave his 'help' to them. No matter, they were not important to him. What important to him were the cases.

Sherlock was on his way home. Instead of via the black cab like usual, he chose to get through by Tube. He did not want his meddling big brother, Mycroft, to look after him by CCTV. It was annoying enough

There were nobody in the Tube, except an old lady with grey hair and red winter-coat wrapped her body. She was sitting alone on the chair with her back straight as a ruler. She glanced to Sherlock for a while, then averted her gaze to somewhere else.

Sherlock sat opposite from her place. He put his gloved hands into his pockets. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling bored again in this midnight. When he opened his eyes back, the old woman fixed her sharp and wrinkled eyes to Sherlock like a hawk. Sherlock found himself surprised with the sudden act from this old woman. He quickly deduce everything he could get from her.

Lives alone on her own. Have no family or friend. Was a teacher but not anymore. Having insomnia with her. Her nails jut got trimmed a few days ago. Have a very pale skin, showing that she rarely get out from her place. Paranoid and a very fixated old lady.

But there was something wrong with her eyes. For Sherlock, her gaze seems to be full of every negative energy. Despair, tired, lonely, hate, mad and... death.

She looks like death to Sherlock.

Feeling uncomfortable with her eyes, Sherlock focused to somewhere else. He hoped that with this ignorance it would make this old lady lost interest with him. Still, she keeps looking to Sherlock with her eyes that bulge out like a fish.

A few moment later, the Tube stopped and another man come in. He have blonde hair and blue eyes with cane in his hand. Possibly army-doctor as he was stank with the scent of medicine and military cut to his hair. His hand were rough and calloused, could be from surgery or the weapon. Tanned skin, could be from Afghanistan or Iraq. His limps looks fine but he have his cane, psychosomatic limp then. His eyes were lost and full of trauma, PTSD? Maybe.

That man sat next to Sherlock after he stoop for a few minutes next to the door while watching them. He still gripped his cane tightly in his hand, carefully moved to the bench.

"Come with me if you want to be safe," the blonde-man suddenly whispered to him.

Sherlock flabbergasted, nut manage to keep his cool posture. Question and theories filled inside his mind. As a response to the (not-so) stranger, Sherlock nodded a little to him.

When they arrived to the next stop, the blonde-man grabbed Sherlock's hand and dragged him out from the Tube, leaving the sharp-eyed old lady. Even if they both out, Sherlock still could feel her eyes upon them. Both of them stood outside together until the Tube finally leave with the old lady.

"Okay, tell me why do you want me out?" Sherlock faced the blonde-man in jumper and questioned him.

"I'm a doctor, you could check my I.D later. That old woman in the Tube just now, she was dead," 

"Dead?" Sherlock scoffed.

"Did her chest rise up and flatten? Did she breath? Did she blink? Did she make any sound like cough? Did she slumped herself like what any old lady old lady should do?"

When Sherlock presented with ton of questions, Sherlock remembered back what just happen inside the Tube. The answer were there, even if it were not suppose to be the answers. But then, once you eliminated the impossible, whatever remain, however improbable, must be the truth.

"No..." Sherlock shook his head a little.

"That's the evidence that she was dead. Not just dead, she was just another figment of life that leave this world..." the blonde man continued and paused for a moment.

"Meaning?" Sherlock waited for an answer. He hates riddles.

"She was a ghost,"

Ghost? Not what Sherlock expected from him. To know that a medical man believed in supernatural element was not something he have in his mind.

"If she was dead, you could smell rotten body of her and her body will be stiff because or rigor mortis. But she did not have that. Yet, she did not breath like anyone. That's why I suspected that she was a ghost," the blonde-man added more "I know you don't trust me, but she was a ghost. You're lucky that she didn't succeeds to possess your body. That old woman need a human living body to come back alive,"

"That's why she was here in the dead of night. Looking for a victim for her own need," Sherlock make a conclusion.

The blonde man nodded before saying "It's better for you to use a cab. I'm going to home now. Good night,"

Sherlock nodded. He turned his body and wanted to leave, until he remember he forgot to ask his name. Sherlock tried to call him back, but that man quickly disappear into thin air. Sherlock looked anywhere, but there was no sign of him.

Sherlock felt a bit regret. He really wanted to know more about this man. There was something really interesting about him. When Sherlock looked down, he saw an I.D left on the ground. He picked it up and saw a picture of the blonde man with his name: John H. Watson.

Sherlock smiled. Well, tonight was certainly a ghostly night.


End file.
